XXIV
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and —— sans End!引自 RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM XXI
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears:
To- morrowーーWhy, To- morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.引自 RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM LXVI
I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell:
And by and by my Soul returned to me,
And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell."引自 RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM
